


Protect My Own

by rage_quitter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4560882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan gets hurt and Gavin will do anything to protect his Crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protect My Own

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill on tumblr: vwildmage asked: Mavinwood: Ryan is injured during a firefight with another gang, and Gavin can't lift him, so Michael gives Gavin his gun and carries Ryan out of the line of fire. They get separated, but Gavin proves to be surprisingly capable at holding his own to protect the people he cares about. Ryan and Michael realize that Gavin can be scary when he needs to be.

Everything was going swimmingly. They were good on ammo, half the other gang was down, and they’d located the leader.

And one lucky little son of a bitch buried a bullet deep in Ryan’s thigh.

Ryan yelped out in pain and collapsed. “Fuck!”

Michael and Gavin turned immediately, ducking under the bullets. “Ry!”

“Fuck, fuck, my leg! That’s not good.” Ryan’s gun clattered to the ground and he pressed a hand to the wound. “Oh, shit.”

“Gav, cover me!” Michael barked. He shoved his gun at Gavin and dragged Ryan into a room empty of anything but storage boxes. Gavin watched down the hallway with his hands trembling on the gun until Michael called for him again. 

“Door,” Michael hissed. He’d propped Ryan up against a box. The older man was bleeding profusely. 

Gavin closed the door, keeping quiet. “What do we do?”

“Tie up my leg,” Ryan said. “Stop the bleeding. I’m not gonna fucking bleed out here, not like this.”

Michael hurried out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head. “Michael?” Gavin asked when Michael pulled the knife from the sheath at Ryan’s hip.

“We’ve got nothing better,” he said before slicing the shirt into strips. “Hold on, Rye Bread, this is not gonna be fun.”

Ryan snorted, though the sound lacked real emotion. “No worse than getting shot.” His knuckles went white as Michael looped the strips of his shirt around the injury and tied them tightly. He didn’t complain, except to hiss out a steady stream of curses. 

“We gotta get out of here,” Michael whispered when he was done. He pulled his jacket back on over his bare torso, ignoring the blood on his hands. “That’s not gonna help forever.”

“Yeah, we can take them out later. I’d rather limp out with no dignity than go out with honor,” Ryan said. “Michael’s better with a gun, Gav, think you can help me.”

Gavin couldn’t.

“Well, shit.”

“I can shoot just fine!” Gavin said with determination. “Michael, take Ry to Caleb or Jack or whoever can help. I’ll finish up here.”

“Gavin, don’t be a fucking idiot, we’ll just leave and come back later.” Michael was helping Ryan to his feet.

“No, I can do this!” Gavin clutched Michael’s assault rifle to his chest. 

“There’s twenty men left, at least!” Ryan argued.

“I can kill them!” Gavin insisted. “Trust me.”

“It’s a suicide mission!” Michael had panic in his voice.

Gavin inhaled deeply, but let it whoosh out at once. “Okay. Fine. I’ll cover you. Come on, let’s go.” He accepted Ryan’s knife from Michael.

Gavin led the way. He kept silent, a few feet ahead of Michael and Ryan, peering around corners. He used Ryan’s knife to slit the throat of one patrolling gang member, and that was the only one they ran into until they reached the exit.

“Shh, I hear them,” Michael whispered. “They’re around the corner. Quick, let’s go, before they come here.”

Gavin held the door open for Michael and Ryan. “Get him out of here,” Gavin said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Wait, what?” Michael turned, eyes wide.

“Gavin, no!” 

Gavin slammed the door closed, and the pair heard the door lock. They stood in shock for several seconds before they jumped at the sound of gunfire.

“Gavin…” 

Ryan shook his head. “Michael, I… he…”

Michael swallowed. “Come on, Ryan, we need to get you help.”

“We can’t just leave him–”

“Ryan, come on!” Tears sparkled in Michael’s eyes, and Ryan shut up. He leaned heavily on the red haired man as they slowly made their way away from the building to Michael’s car.

An hour and forty five minutes later, Ryan’s leg patched up by Caleb, the two sat in front of the crew’s headquarters, numbly staring at the floor. Ryan’s facepaint was smudged and there were tear tracks down Michael’s cheeks. The other three members of the crew were inside talking in hushed voices.

“I can’t believe him,” Michael rasped. “He just… he just sacrificed himself.”

“For us. For me.” Ryan’s hands shook. “That fucking idiot.”

Michael seemed at a loss for words, choked by anger and agony. Ryan placed a hand on Michael’s fist, and Michael seemed to collapse in on himself, pressing his face into Ryan’s shoulder as silent sobs shook his frame. It would have frightened Ryan, if his own eyes weren’t burning with tears.

It was hardly a minute later that a motorcycle pulled up. Ryan scrambled to grab a gun, and Michael jumped to his feet with his fists raised.

They stared in silence as the motorcycle stopped and the rider dismounted. Blood soaked their clothes and there was a crack in their helmet, as if from a bullet. There was a bloody knife gripped in one hand.

The figure slowly limped toward them, paying no mind to Ryan holding a shotgun at them. 

A few feet away, the figure stopped. They tilted their head up to look at the two. Their knees gave out and they crumpled to the ground. 

Michael rushed forward and knelt beside them. He started to reach down and froze. “Oh my god. Oh my god, no.”

“Michael?” Ryan called in concern.

Michael gingerly pulled the helmet off, revealing Gavin’s bloody face. His eyes were rolled back, his nose broken and his face bruised. His hair was matted with gore.

“Gavin!” Michael wailed. He pressed his fingers to Gavin’s throat. “Oh, god, he’s alive!”

“Gavin?!” Ryan tried to stand, but sank back down as pain laced up his leg. 

Michael looped his arms under Gavin’s and dragged him backwards. “He’s alive, oh god, Gavin!”

Gavin’s eyes flickered and his hands twitched. Michael sat him up beside Ryan. “Gav, Gavin, can you hear me?”

Gavin cracked his eyes open. “Michael,” he rasped. “Where… Ry…”

“I’m here,” Ryan said, moving into Gavin’s view.

“Good. Sorry, lost your guns,” Gavin said. He held up the knife. “I still got this though.” 

“Gavin, what happened?” 

“I got ‘em all. Wasn’t gonna let the mission go unfinished. I killed all of ‘em. They were gonna go after us if we left, we were sitting ducks. Ran outta ammo halfway through and had to start beating people, but I did it.” He grinned. “I bloody told you guys I could.” He laughed weakly.  “Should have put money it.

“Now can someone call Caleb please? I think my knee is dislocated. And also my face hurts.”


End file.
